Two Words
by Stephxy
Summary: I was struck by the way Kate responded to Castle in "Always", inspired by the emotion and truth in her voice as she said "I know"… This is a quick look at Kate's feelings during those moments. One shot, unless you want me to go further.


"Two Words" a Castle Fan Fiction

Summary: I was struck by the way Kate responded to Castle in "Always", inspired by the emotion and truth in her voice as she said "I know"… This is a quick look at Kate's feelings during those moments. One shot, unless you want me to go further.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, or Disney.

"You're not alone in this. I'm here."

"I know"…

It can be difficult to put your entire heart into two words, especially if you aren't a bestselling author. Sometimes something is just so big, so _frustratingly _consuming that all you can do is hope to send a message the only way you can, with the best of intentions and the blind truth and meaning behind those two little words.

_I KNOW_, without a shadow of a doubt that he is here with me, that I am not alone. He hovers over my life, and truth be told, my heart, just like a light that charges me, allows me to go on with the day. I'm a burden with it all, I'm sure… How much different, how much lighter would his life be if he had never walked into the 12th? He has a family, love, support, success. I have loss, grief, a broken father, and a death wish. I am shattered, and he knows it. He knows it because he has spent the last four years trying to put it all back together. I know this.

"I know"…

He nearly took a bullet for me, and has made it clear that he would if he had to, should the opportunity arise. He arrived at my side in an instant that morning, but an instant too late. Too late for what, though? I think about that a lot, in the most secret recesses of my mind. I play the scenario over and over, a million times a day. It runs in slow motion, voices deepened and movements sluggish as I see him lunging for me. He held my head and begged me not to leave him. _"Him"._ He told me that he loved me, twice actually, because I counted and recounted for months while I hid from him. In that moment, as I lay bleeding in his arms, I knew that it was probably too late for me, but I longed with all the life force in the blood flowing out of me that it could be the beginning for us…

Yeah, so beginnings are overrated. At least when it comes to how I handle them. He told me he loved me, I lied and pushed him away. We've played the most infuriating game of chess for the better part of a year, moving around each other, in each other's space but never touching. Sometimes we are so close that I swear I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, but we just keep moving, away and back. I had heard him, and he knew it. I wanted to hear it again, but it terrifies me. As contradictory as it sounds, it terrifies me just as much to think that I _won't _hear him say those words again.

"I know"…

The truth is that I love him back. I love him in a way that is only beginning to make sense to me. What I do know is that it is instinctual in its intensity, as if it's always been here, long before either of us. I guess you could say that it is just waiting for me to catch up with it. But it's existence? I've pretty much always known, and have probably felt the same for him for just as long.

In this moment, all I can do is will myself to put my hand in his, to move my thumb over his knuckles, and to squeeze, as if trying to transfer the truth to him. Trying to _make him know. _He pumps my hand in his in return and turns to wordlessly look at me. How can something so silent be so damn loud?

I am more than tempted to avert my eyes to the ground, as keeping his gaze is a challenge. The intensity of it bores through me and I am scared of it. Scared of how much I need it, need him. Scared of how much he needs me.

"I know"…

I'm stubborn. I'm reckless. I can be a bitch sometimes. I'm a beast behind the gun, but I'm a coward in front of the man that I love… I know, I'm working on it.

"I know"…

I've given him every reason in the book to walk away and never look back. I have broken him and put him in danger, I have walked away when I've only wanted to move closer. Lately, it seems as if you can cut the tension with a knife. I see it and feel it now, but it appears that I am the last to know. My team has been making bets on us for years, convinced that we would find our way to each other, and prepared to support us when we finally got ourselves on the same path.

I am either the last to know or the last to admit the truth to myself.

"I know"…

As we clasp hands, we both use our thumbs to administer reassuring, roving caresses on each other's skin. Sweet, but so frightening. It is one of those moments where everything appears to stand still, the world stops around you and the people in the vicinity just become statues in the background. It is just him and I for the shortest of moments before we are interrupted, pulling away from the physical touch and the reverie of the moment.

There was a time not so long ago when I would have convinced myself that the words and the touches were innocuous, without consequence, nothing more significant that the support of two partners being loyal, offering comfort. Part of the job. This was so much more. It was a _message_, and if I weren't so damn frightened of the fall out, I would have kissed him right there.

"I know"…

The boys had amazing timing, and our hands slipped apart. I immediately missed the feeling of his warm skin against my knuckles. Internally, I simultaneously chastised myself for wanting it and for pushing it away. I don't doubt him, not for a second. It's me and my own insecurities, but I am running out of wall to hide behind. I am running out of the resolve and motivation to keep hiding from something that feels so damn _good._

When he tells me that he'll be there, tells me that I am not alone, I believe him. "I know"... And I do, I _know_ with such certainty that it feels as though it is going to come bursting through my chest. For so long, I've learned to live a solitary life for the most part, keeping my heart behind the deepest of moats. I've learned to be satisfied living alone, opening the door to an empty apartment and watching the shadows dance across the wall as the sun sets over the city.

It's got nothing to do with being alone, though. I am not afraid of losing my space or needing to get away. What I am afraid of is living my life without him. He'd give it all up for me. "I know"… I can at least do the same for him, because I _miss _his hand when it is no longer in mine. I _miss _his face when it is absent from my peripheral vision.

I am not scared of being with Richard Castle. I am petrified, horrified, frightened to death of losing my chance, of _not _being with Richard Castle.

"I know"…

**To all those who have reviewed or added my first two stories to your favorites, I thank you. **


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